


Together

by fanfoolishness (LoonyLupin), LoonyLupin



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:18:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/fanfoolishness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/LoonyLupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan just has not been feeling herself for weeks.  At first she blamed the 3 day long celebration honoring the anniversary of the fall of Corypheus, then ongoing talks she was mediating between 3 different Free Marches city-states, then she tried blaming a lingering cold. But after her latest dizzy spell while training, Cullen finally sent her to her tower and had a healer follow soon after…</p>
<p>From a prompt by a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

Namira Lavellan sat on the edge of her bed, her knees drawn up to her chin, her arms wrapped around her legs.  She perched there, breaths slowly coming in, washing out.  She felt strange, different, new after what she had learned that afternoon.

It had seemed a day like any other.  She had been practicing with Dorian and Vivienne, mock battles in the courtyard with the others well out of the way, lightning and ice and fire flaring from their staves.  Then it had hit her — a wave of dizziness that had nothing to do with Vivienne’s graceful spells.  Namira had stumbled, black spots dancing at the edge of her vision, the world going muffled and stone-silent, and she was on the ground.

She had woken to find Cullen kneeling beside her, his face ashen.  Above her Dorian and Vivienne stood, the last vestiges of their healing spells flickering away into wisps.  All three of them looked terribly worried.

“Namira,” Cullen said urgently.  “What happened?”  He reached out and brushed her hair out of her eyes for her.

“I was so dizzy,” she mumbled, rubbing her forehead.  “I don’t know what happened.”  She swore.  “Sorry.  Didn’t mean to worry you all.”

“Nonsense,” said Dorian lightly, but she could tell he had been concerned.  “Worry’s what we’re here for!”

“Dear, you really oughtn’t to tax yourself so,” said Vivienne, giving her a rare and dazzling smile.  “Do get yourself examined by the healers.  While I can heal on the battlefield, it is not my forte.”

Cullen helped her to her feet, and she wavered unsteadily against him, even when he wrapped one firm arm around her.  He bent his head to her ear.  “Are you all right?  You gave me quite a turn.”

“I’ll be all right if I can lean on you,” she whispered, embarrassed at her sudden weakness.  Her limbs felt heavy, her head swimming.  “Just help me get to the healers.”

“I told you you were pushing yourself too hard,” he said quietly, walking slowly with her away from the training grounds and up the stairs.  “Come on.  Let’s get you sorted.”

—-

Now she sat there, contemplative, looking out at the sunset spilling reds and oranges on the encircling mountains.  Even the sunset looked different, spectacular, fiery.

A knock came at her door.  “Come in,” she called, without turning to look.  She knew it was Cullen before she heard his voice and his heavy, booted footsteps.  He hurried in, and when he crested the top of the stairs she glanced his way.

“What did they say?” Cullen asked, sitting down on the bed beside her.  He leaned in to kiss her, and she kissed him back, his mouth warm and familiar and safe.  “Overwork?  Do you simply need to rest?”  His eyes darkened, and he reached up with one gloved hand to brush his fingers against her cheek.  “Tell me it’s nothing serious, Namira.”

Namira laughed, shaking her head and sighing.  “I suppose you could say it is?  Creators, Cullen, I don’t know how to say this.”

He turned to face her, taking her by the shoulders, his touch firm yet gentle.  He peered into her face, brows rising in that anxious expression he had been wearing the past few weeks, any time one of these spells had happened.  “Please, tell me what’s going on.”  

She shrugged, feeling like crying and laughing both.  Her voice skipped a little as she spoke.  “Cullen — I’m pregnant.”

The words hung between them for a long, aching moment.  His face was a study.  First the stunned look of confusion, with his lips parted and his eyes wide and disbelieving.  Then his mouth slowly curled up at the sides in an incredulous grin, and he laughed, his cheeks pinking.  “You’re  _what_?  No, really.”

She laughed, kissing him.  “Yes, really.”  She gave him a sheepish sort of smile, not knowing what else to say, and he pulled her into a fierce embrace, kissing the top of her head.

“But that’s wonderful news!” he said, rocking her gently in the embrace.  He held her out to look at her, then gave her a deep kiss, only breaking it off to rest his forehead against hers.  “I can’t believe it, but it’s — you’re — ah, I don’t know what to say.  Except that I’m glad.  I’m excited!  I can’t imagine a better woman to be my partner in this, and I mean it.”

She pulled away from him, hesitating.  She glanced out the window again, seeing the way the sun had retreated, leaving only the dark edges of blue and black shadowing the mountainsides.  

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

“I’m…”  She looked away from him, ashamed.  “I think I’m afraid.”

“About what?”

Namira closed her eyes and leaned against him, savoring the way his arm fit around her.  “All of it.”

His voice was soft, kind.  “Tell me.”

She took a deep breath, taking comfort in the way he felt against her.  “It — I mean he, or she — they’ll have a tough lot in life.  We have so many duties… will we really have time to give this child what they deserve?  And we have enemies, Cullen.  If someone was to try and get at them, to get to us —”  She shivered.

“We’ll make the time, delegate, cut back.  We’ll make do, Namira.  And we also have the best people in the world at our side,” Cullen reminded her.  “Do you think Leliana couldn’t spot a threat to us in an instant, for example?”

“Well… what about the fact they won’t be fully human,  _or_  elven?” she said stubbornly, glancing up at him.  “They’ll know what they are, and it could make things harder for them, not fitting into either world.  The Dalish say they accept the elfblooded, but… even when they try to welcome them, there’s still a separation there.  It’s not the same.  And while I know most humans won’t even notice it, I still worry.  I don’t want my history to fade away,  _or_  to cause them any problems.”

“I don’t think anyone will trouble them, not when they’re the son or daughter of the Inquisitor.  But I’ll tell them stories about King Calenhad, the Silver Knight, and you’ll tell them about Mythal and Fen’Harel,” said Cullen.  He smiled crookedly at her.  “I want them to be proud of where they come from.  Both parts.”

She twisted her fingers in her lap, afraid to say the last thing that frightened her.  They had moved past it, but would that change?  She bit her lip, looking into Cullen’s hazel eyes.  She whispered, “But what if they have magic?”

He looked wounded, his lips pressing into a thin line.  “Namira…”

“What if they do?”

He slipped his gloves off, caressed her jawline, lifted her chin just slightly so that their eyes met.  His fingers were warm, their callouses a familiar comfort.

“If they do… I know you’ll teach them mastery of their abilities, and we will both teach them to choose what is right over what is easy.”  He let out a long, shaky breath.  “I do not deny that I hope for their sake they are not.  You’ve told me yourself how difficult it can be, the journeys in the Fade, the dreams, the temptations.  Part of me would spare them that struggle.”  

“And I would not,” she said, staring evenly at him.  “Magic is a part of me, Cullen.  Were it removed, I would not be the same person, even though it is not always easy or safe.”  Had it come down to this, then?  Would this divide them?

He smiled, and her doubt faded away with his next words.  “But all children face struggles, and I know that.  They’re what make us who we are, and no matter how much a parent wishes to protect their child, struggle they must.”  He leaned forward, brushed his lips against hers.  ”If our child is a mage — if that is the form their struggle takes — their magic will not dissuade me. You have my word, and my promise, that I will love them with every part of me.”  He kissed her again, tender and warm, and said,  “Just as I love you, Namira.”

A smile stole over her face.  “Do you mean it?”

The look on his face was answer enough for her, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him as if she would never let go.  The fear was gone, replaced by a sense of relief.  A thought struck her.

“Do you think they’ll have your hair?” she asked him teasingly.

“Oh, Maker’s breath, I hope not.  It’s a nightmare, honestly,” he said.

“But I love your hair!” she protested, reaching up and running her fingers through the curls, making them stand on end.

“You won’t love brushing it on a squirming child who won’t sit still,” he groused.  “My mother certainly did not enjoy the task.”

She giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  “But it’ll be  _our_  child.  I think that might make the difference.”

Cullen smiled down at her.  “ _Our_ child.  I — I like the sound of that.”  He said the words with a sense of wonder, and she felt as if the love she had for him might overwhelm her.  They truly were in this together, and for the first time all day, she felt excited. 

**Author's Note:**

> I... don't really want children. I'm 30 and the older I get the less interested in them I become. So it took some mental gymnastics on my part to take that trepidation and put it into someone who does actually want children. I'll admit it feels weird, heh.


End file.
